Fallen from Grace
by kitalyn erof
Summary: Oneshot-focuses on Loki moments after the events in Thor and before his appearance in The Avengers with references to The Dark World. Reeling from his father's rejection, Loki is flung across the universe. Hopelessly falling, he is caught up in a childhood memory. He deals with what he find at the farthest reaches of the universe with a new plan in mind- going home.


Streaks of light surrounded him- planets, galaxies, entire star systems blurred together in a crystalline spectrum of colors. He saw none of it. Pain wore at him, thoughts swirled around his head, his father's rejection burning him from the inside out… "_No, Loki."_

He didn't know where he was going. Death could take him for all he cared. If he couldn't succeed in wiping out his past, his monstrous kin, then what other relief could there be?

Just then a memory, sharp and clear, surfaced: one from his childhood.

* * *

In one of the palace courtyards stood a tree that had the trunk that twisted in corkscrew-spirals to tower over the garden wall. Branches, covered with silver dagger-shaped leaves, wept down to touch the shaded pool. Loki sat in a niche in its exposed roots, reading. He listened idly to the birds singing and to the music of the crystal fountain whose colorful water dripped forever skyward, creating an ever-lasting rainbow. It was his favorite place, the one place he could get away from…

"Brother!"

Loki groaned.

"Brother, I- urgh, curse these branches!" Loki snickered as he watched his older, much more strapping brother struggle against the trailing limbs. "I swear, I will blast this tree to pieces if you don't come out now Loki!" The grin faded from Loki's face and he sighed, knowing it wasn't an empty threat. Thor had finally gotten it through his thick skull that magic could be useful, and had mastered some stormcraft. He seemed to like to remind Loki of this every time he could, randomly causing a thunderclap whenever he saw Loki reading intensely… of course, Loki never just let it go. He was just more subtle in his revenge.

"Loki! Did you hear me?"

"Coming, coming."

Tucking away his book, he climbed out of his reading knoll into the bright sunshine. Thor's face broke into his typical, knowing grin, and he folded his arms.

"What do you want?" Loki asked in a voice thick with annoyance, his mouth falling into a half-frown. "I'm not going to run around pretending to be an animal to hunt for you and your friends again."

"Of course not!" Thor boomed, grinning even larger, "I thought we could play 'Battle the Frost Giants'!"

Loki's frown intensified. That game wasn't any better, as Thor not only forced him to be Laufey every time, but also said using magic was cheating. He always threw a fit when Loki cast a spell anyways, and Loki generally ended up with a black eye and some bruises.

"No thanks," Loki said, turning back to his reading spot. "Now, please, I need to study up on transportation charms."

"But brother, you can be Odin this time!" Thor said. Loki scowled, examining his face… Thor couldn't conceal a lie, there was always some tell Loki could pick up. His eyebrows shot up and his scowl disappeared. Thor wasn't lying. _He could play the hero this time!_

"Well, okay," Loki said finally. Thor smiled at him, and clapped an arm around his back. Loki allowed a little smile to creep onto his face as his brother lead him out from the shadows of the tree… and gave him a shove. Loki stumbled out into the courtyard as he heard Thor yell, "NOW!"

Three heads, those of Thor's band of friends, popped over the ramparts surrounding the courtyard and something slammed into Loki. He reeled away, choking on a cloud of blue powder… another powderbomb, thrown from above, slammed into him, and another, and another…

The barrage only stopped when he fell to the ground, arms flung over his face. Cautiously he opened his eyes. Everything, his clothes, his skin, from head-to-toe, was dyed blue.

He blinked away tears of pain and shock to stare at his brother. Thor was bent double in laughter.

"So sorry, brother," he barked between chuckles, "but I guess you have to be a Frost Giant after all! Guess next time you shouldn't turn my bow into a serpent!"

Loki, blinded by stinging tears, hardly knew what he was doing. He turned, forcing his magic to take him away, far, far away from his oafish brother…

He opened his eyes once more to find himself in a completely unfamiliar place. It appeared to be some sort of marketplace, filled with scruffy booths offering piles of fly-infested fish, secondhand blankets, and grubby men and women in tattered clothes. They were unlike any people he had ever seen before: pale and emaciated, with eyes filled with suspicion.

Desperately, Loki tried to work the spell again but nothing happened. His worst fears were realized: he had overtaxed himself, and now he had no way to get home. Tears blazed white trails through the blue-powder, and an icy fear gripped his heart.

Murmurs rose around him, unkind, hungry mutterings…

"This 'un's dressed like a bloomin' prince!"

"Silly duck's gone an' colored hisself blue!"

"Whatcha think we could get offa his clothes?"

Loki tried to turn, to run from this crowd pressing in like vultures, already tearing at his clothes, trying to grab what they could…

He used the last ounce of his strength to cast a blinding flash of light. The rough crowd protested, rubbing their eyes, as Loki slipped under a booth. He crouched there as the murderous crowd rumbled by, and tried to hold in sobs. _What have I done?_

The light started fading from that grey, smoke-choked sky and Loki grew cold, his legs cramping. The people had filtered back, one-by-one, grumbling about the one that got away, and now they were wending their ways back through the alley, into the ramshackle buildings or just the doorways.

Loki tried to magic himself back. Nothing happened.

Sighing, he crawled from underneath the booth and stood, his aching muscles burning. He was still coated in that infernal blue, with two bands of pale skin trailing down his cheeks where tears had fallen. Loki wouldn't cry anymore. _This is how it's going to be_, he thought, sadly starting his way down the alley.

Suddenly, a soft, gentle hand grasped his. He blinked and looked up to see his mother grinning down at him. She had materialized right beside him and he hadn't even noticed.

"Oh Loki! We were so worried! Thor told me you had disappeared and never came back, and we thought..." Frigga paused to hug him fiercely.

"Mother!" Loki said, hugging her back just as tightly. "I thought I'd never see you again!" She leaned back from him, stoking his face and smiling through her tears.

"I wouldn't have if your brother never told me," she said, and Loki felt a buzzing anger fill his chest. Frigga noted his annoyance. "Thor was wrong, of course, to push you to that point. And it would have taken much longer if you hadn't cast magic just now, as I only had hours-old spells to trace." Soothed, for the most part, Loki smiled a little.

She paused at looked around, bemused. "I must say, you did well for your first transporting spell! You went a greater distance than most go in their first year of practicing the spell!" She beamed with pride as Loki hastily wiped away his tears.

"But I couldn't go back," he croaked. "I-I wasn't strong enough."

"Going back is always the hardest part," Frigga replied softly. She brushed a hand through his hair, magicking away the blue powder at the same time. His pale, thin face twisted into a watery smile. "Let's go home, Loki."

* * *

The same sad smiled flickered across his face now… he could feel his mother taking his hand again…

Loki opened his eyes and let out a groan. The colors of the Bi-Frost were gone, replaced with a vast, starry expanse of space punctuated with floating chunks of rock.

He was on his back, the ground icy and hard beneath him. The sensation of his mother's hand was replaced with the cruel reality of a misshapen grasp dragging him along, practically yanking his shoulder from its socket. Another hand took up his left wrist and proceeded pulling him along.

"Stop," he moaned, "stop." Only cruel, hissing laughter replied.

"Oh, but we haven't even started yet, Loki Laufeyson!" a voice sneered, and Loki caught sight of his captor. A masked face with glittering eyes and a protruding chin…

"Chitauri," Loki muttered. He tried to muster up some kind of magic, anything at all, but he was powerless for the first time since his childhood. There was no way out of this.

The creature laughed again, a choking sort of hiss. "Yesss, very good, Asgardian!" Its voice dripped with sarcasm. "Perhaps you will be useful after all." The Chitauri let go of Loki's wrists and he hit the ground hard. He clamped his jaw shut to keep from making a noise. The monster wasn't going to get any satisfaction from his suffering. The creature's cloak _swished,_ the only noise in that strange space.

"Of course, you'll be useful whether you like it or not. But I suppose you'll need persuasion." The creature stopped just in front of Loki. Loki closed his eyes, just wanting stillness, just wanting death…

The Chitauri kicked his side and pain, hot and sharp, caused sparks to jump through the darkness behind Loki's eyelids. Resentment surged through his mind, but he just gritted his teeth. He opened his eyes to stare up at the creature, and rolled onto his stomach. He started to prop himself up on his elbows.

"That hurt, did it not? But that was just physical. We have other ways of making you suffer, Laufeyson." He could hear the grin in the monster's voice, didn't even need to open his eyes to know how smugly confident the Chitauri was… just as a response formed on his lips, a blinding flash of pain seized his thoughts, his mind. He was pain, that was all, nothing but burning, searing pain…

It faded in an instant, and he fell flat. His throat felt raw and he realized he had screamed.

"You will help us win the Earth," the Chitauri growled. Loki swallowed hard.

"No," he rasped, and the creature raised a seven-fingered hand again. A burst of the all-consuming pain wracked his body for a second and stopped, leaving him gasping for air. "I want nothing with Migard!" Loki snarled, "Let it burn for a thousand years for all I care!"

Another round of the pain left him feeling feverish, longing to curl up into a ball. He set his jaw and he shivered.

"You're trying my patience, Asgardian," the creature hissed. "You don't seem to understand what we're offering."

"And what's that?" Loki gasped, on the verge of hysterical laughter.

"For one thing, you will be allowed to live. For another, our armies will be yours."

"So? What of it? I care nothing for your forces nor my life."

"And the Earth… Midgard will be yours to do what you will."

Loki no longer felt like laughing. The Chitauri grinned, baring its sharp teeth.

"You will be a king," the creature said.

Loki's mind raced. Midgard was nothing to him, his brother's playground where he could always be the biggest, strongest hero… but that was it! _If the Chitauri win, I could barter to rule Asgard instead… if the Chitauri lose, I could die or… _the thought lingered sweetly in his mind. _They would take me back to Asgard… and this time I won't let it slip through my hands. _The plan formed, but everything depended on what he did now.

The Chitauri would know that Loki was plotting something if he agreed too quickly. But, if he survived their torture and their war…

He scoffed, "King of what? A bunch of mindless, trembling sheep too stupid and too feeble to amount to anything!"

"We will persuade you."

His thin lips twisted into a manic sneer. "Do your worst."

He was being dragged away again, but his mind was set. They would persuade him, beyond a doubt, probably change him to a point where he wouldn't even recognize himself, but they couldn't root out that plan: he _would _rule Asgard, whatever the costs...

Loki knew that going home was always much, much harder than getting lost.


End file.
